Fishes In the Sea
Into my hands she commended her heart;
The altar raised on sandy shores with promise
Cradled her tender flesh warmed by her spirit.
So priceless and fragile, I handled it with care
To preserve and protect it from falling and breaking;
Yet, that precious heart would not beat for me,
And the life closed within it only gave me unsure reservations
Through time and chance and much circumstance-
It became callous and cold by that same spirit,
So worthles. So hard! So...! Gripped in my hand!
The altar raised on sandy shores with deferment
Handled the uncertain object jealously! Carelessly!
To release and forget the heartache and disappointment,
As the stone I cast upon the still, enchanted sea
With resentment and much regret skipped... skipped... skipped...
Along the surface of the tide until it finally submerged.
And there, awhile, grievously, I watched where it sank
And began to reminisce of surging billows and crashing waves,
Found to be mine alone, until a hand rested upon my shoulder
And a voice like many waters told me not too worry because
"There are still plenty more fishes in the seas;"
Yet, as I cast out my line with calloused palms,
I can't help but to wander if the catch on my string
Are only stones ready to be thrown in again.
Reflections in 1994 after a major breakup
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